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so we got a corndog box for the rats and my brilliant roommate cut a hole so all of our rats will become corndogs
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do you ever get confused about where your mental illness ends and where you being a piece of shit begins ?? like am i just being difficult or can i really not do that
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My boss told me the other day "I just want you to get back to the you that was always on top of it" and in like...no you want me to go back to being an 18 year old who just started my first job and isn't exhausted with the capitalist system yet.
There is no part of this diatribe that is not amazing or 100% true.
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i dont WANT to be a fucking farmer in stardew valley i want to be an incredibly attractive and surprisingly reclusive romancable bachelor who stares at shit like water and trees for 1-6 hours of the day only to be bothered by a filthy down and out farmer kid with a surprisingly accurate ability to guess what items i like.
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Hiding in my room at a party and flashed back to my friends birthday party in 2nd grade and hiding in the tent we had set up in her yard for like an hour
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theres this place where i live and its got a banana museum but its just that lonely banana, just that, thats the whole museum
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damn people still have beef over tumblr, i am only here to look at pictures of the video game
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